Will You Find Me, Castiel?
by saltyspn
Summary: In an alternate universe where hunters, angels, and even demons don't exist, Cas and Dean are normal human beings who live somewhat normal lives. The two must find each other in order to fulfill their undiscovered love. * mostly T until the ending, which is M * {destiel, smutty, kiss}


**Dean Winchester** was a car salesman. It was mostly quiet at _Winchester Auto_, so Dean had plenty of time to chat with customers. To flirt. To sit back and enjoy a beer. Some days there were no customers at all; after all, Lawrence, Kansas was a quiet town.

His brother Sam wasn't much help around the shop, not even there most of the time. After all, he did have college to deal with. Jess, too. On the rare day he did work, the phone would ring and Sam would answer, excitedly driving off in Jess's direction. Dean both despised and envied their love. He wanted more than just the occasional girl, gone the day after. You couldn't exactly say they treated him like an angel, either. Dean had been having trouble getting women these days.

Dean thought he deserved better - he was a good-looking guy, after all. Short, light brown hair, those soft green eyes. And it was getting lonely.

* * *

Halfway across the country was **Castiel Angelo** in New York City. He was an average-looking man, with rough, dark-chestnut hair. He was often not cleanly shaven. But the thing that stood out to anyone were his unique eyes, always furrowed in a sort of buried seriousness. They were a sort of piercing gray-blue, almost prominent from the darker-shaded tie and beige trench coat. It was his favorite possesion.

Like Dean, Castiel was lacking someone to love. Unlike Dean, however, he had never hit it off with anyone before. And very unlike Dean, Castiel was an openly gay man.

You could describe Castiel as clueless. In college, when he had his first (and since then, only) kiss, she left him for a "more masculine" man. He wasn't sure what that even meant at the time. He only looked into his homosexuality about two years back. The few girls who had hit on him had been waved off, either out of Castiel's lack of interest or his unknowing toward the first step at love.

* * *

Now it was early June. Castiel was sick of the city. He had lived here all his life; grew up above a local restaurant, went to school there, and had gotten his first apartment in Manhattan 5 years ago. He had been planning this trip for months, and had recently sold the place. He had been staying at a cheap motel for about 4 days. He just couldn't take it any longer; the crowds of people, the constant traffic, everything a blur. He needed to go somewhere with a more subtle tone, a more quiet place... and a lightbulb went off in his head at that moment. Kansas. The perfect opportunity for a fresh start. The plane ticket was booked within a week, and he had saved enough money to finally buy a car after he arrived.

* * *

It was mid-June now. Dean had been letting the place go, clinging on to what little social life he had. There he sat, on that dry, warm day, under the shade of the garage awning in his folding chair, a beer in his hand like always. He would get that small prick of energy every time someone walked by, only for it to be plucked out by them continuing to walk away. He closed his eyes. Sam had failed to pick up the phone. Bobby was still in California with John. He prayed that someone would come along. Anybody.

"Hello," Dean heard as someone tapped his shoulder. His eyes shot open. There was a man standing before him, roughly about Dean's size and age. "Hey," Dean replied as he sat up, blinking from the sunlight. He set the beer down on the end table. The man had a firm expression. He wore a very long trench coat, and a tie a bit darker than his eyes. _His eyes_. Wow.

"I need to buy a cheap car," he continued. His voice was gruff, yet soothing. "Uh... Dean?" he said, reading the name tag on Dean's black shirt. Dean shook his head ever so slightly and blinked. "Y-yes?" he managed. The man's brow furrowed deeper than it already was. "Uh, hi. I just flew here, and I'm going to need a car if I'm going to get around."

"Yeah," Dean blurted. "Sure." He pushed back the chair and stood up. He began to open his mouth when the man said, "Is that yours?" motioning to the 1967 Chevy Impala parked diagonally next to the garage. Dean was focused now. "Yeah," he replied, his bottom lip sticking out. He smirked. "Beautiful, isn't she?" The man imitated Dean's smile. "Gorgeous," he said, trailing off. Dean turned his head toward the man now focused on the car. He could see the awe in his eyes as he walked toward it. "You know it's not for sale," Dean threw in, chuckling.

"Yeah, yeah..." he said, trailing off, as if he knew it was a stupid idea. "So." He turned around. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, I..." Dean paused, noticing a flash of color near the man's chest, mostly hidden under the trench. It was a small, faded, rainbow pin. "You're..." he began. The man noticed Dean staring at the pin. His eyes flashed to the floor as he admitted, "Yeah. Two years." He put one foot over the other. "And still alone." Dean blushed unknowingly.

He broke the short silence with "What's your name?"

"Castiel," he answered. My, uh, old friend called me Cas." Dean broke into a smile. A unique, yet beautiful name. He moved on by saying, "It's time we find you that car." They moved on toward the small section of used cars, when Castiel looked back. "What I would give to drive that beauty," he monotonically rambled. What Dean was about to say proved his sense of trust in this stranger. "Wanna go for a ride?" Castiel was taken aback. He gave Dean a look of disbelief and hope. "You mean it?"

"Well, I'll be there too," Dean explained. "And what does it matter? I haven't seen a customer in three days. No one should come by." A spark went off in his brain. "You said you just flew in?"

"Yeah," Castiel replied. "From New York. It was all too... just... busy. I needed a place where I could focus on one person." Dean immediately knew where he was edging at. "I..." he began. "I'm not..."

"Gay?" the man finished. Dean's shoulders loosened. "Yeah..." he finished.

"I know. I'm not suggesting anything." Castiel looked up at the clouds, smiling. Dean couldn't tell if it was a genuine smile, or that from the sunlight.

"But, uh, seriously," Dean continued. "Where have you been staying?"

"Well, there's a motel not too far from here. I actually checked out last night, and was going to find a cheaper one tonight." Dean smirked, and said, "You know, my brother and I shared an apartment for a long time. He just recently moved out." Castiel's blue eyes lit up even more than they already were. "You mean... I could stay? At your apartment?"

"Yeah. Why not?" Dean laughed a deep, genuine laugh as he scurried toward the Impala. "Come on!" Castiel laughed, too. "Wow," he uttered once inside the car's space. With Dean at the wheel and Castiel in the passenger seat, they drove off.

* * *

When they finally reached the apartment, Castiel was beaming. "Kansas is beautiful."

"That's why I've stayed here my whole life," Dean replied. He pushed on the door. "Home sweet home." He spread his arms wide. The apartment was not too inviting, but it was livable. Dean threw his leather jacket onto the couch, then watched as it slid off. He kept it there. "You can put your coat wherever you like," he informed the man, only to hear "I like to keep it on."

"Suit yourself." Dean walked over to the small kitchen. "Beer?"

"I'm not a huge drinker."

"Beer?" Dean repeated.

"Sure." Dean opened the fridge and pulled two out. He heavily bounced down onto the couch where Castiel was waiting, and tossed the bottle into his new friend's lap. "So. Cas," Dean said. Castiel was surprised that he called him that, only his closest friend had ever done so. "What made you decide on Kansas?" he continued, immediately regretting the question he knew the answer to. "I said," Cas told him, "I just needed a quiet place. The city was too busy for me. Too many people, yet at the same time, not enough options. I- if you get my drift."

"Yeah," Dean replied, his cheeks full of color. "I know what you mean. Me and women lately... we're just not... getting along well." Cas raised his eyebrows in an I-told-you-so sort of way, staring at the gray rug. "What?" Dean asked. All he got was a "Nothing, nothing," and a smile seemingly directed at the rug. There was just silence then, as Dean sipped his beer, and Cas held his in his hand, still unopened. Dean handed him the bottle opener. "Come on," he urged. "Live a little." And suddenly he burst.

"Do you know how hard it is? Being me?" he half-shouted. Dean was taken by surprise at this. "Do you understand? How I've been alone? All these years? How even in college I couldn't find anyone? How my one and only girlfriend figured out I was gay before I did?" His breaths slowed. "Do you know what that's like?"

"Cas... I don't." Dean looked up at him, putting on a face of sympathy. And as he looked at his face, he could see the terror Cas felt. "I should go," he said. "Cas," Dean pleaded, but he stood up. "Cas!" But the door was already closing.

* * *

No one came to _Winchester Auto_ that week. The week after he put the shop up for sale. He hadn't shaved. The apartment was littered with bottles, the drinking out of hand. By now it was late June, and he hadn't spoken to Sam.

Or Cas, for that matter.

He put his head in his hands as he lay there on the tattered couch. What was the point of this? Living? People would come and go, like they never existed. Why try again and again if he was just going to fail? Dean's life was crappy. No, it was worse than that. Dean's life was bullshit. Why go on? He stood up from the couch and angrily toward the door, not sure where he was going or what he was going to do. He threw the door open and nearly jumped. There, standing there, hand mid-knock, was Castiel.

"Cas?" Dean said, his breath still.

"Oh, Dean," Cas blurted. "Dean, I'm so sorry. I just couldn't handle what I was feeling and all I could think about was you and how..." He took a quick breath. "And how you... cared for me and you actually tried to get me somewhere in life, and... and..." Dean was awestruck. "And I love you, Dean." Dean's heart pumped faster and his mouth moved up and down at a loss for words. "Cas," he breathed, and suddenly it just happened. Dean shot his arms toward Cas and around his neck and kissed him hard and passionately, and Cas was shocked but relieved as his eyes slowly closed and he wrapped his arms around Dean's lower back. And then they were back in the room, the door closed, Dean lying on the couch and Cas on top, their lips still entwined.

"I knew it," Cas whispered, not daring to take his lips from Dean's. "I could tell." Dean shushed him and ran his hand through Cas's almost-black hair. The trench coat was on the floor now. They parted as Dean began to sit up, but Cas's hand gently pushed him down again. His soothed faced was focused on Dean's chest as he pulled the black tee off of him. Dean smiled and began to unbutton Cas's white shirt himself, from top to bottom, and the pulled the light fabric off. Cas brought his head back down and kissed Dean again, their chests pressed together. Cas's warm skin felt relaxing on Dean's cool chest. Neither had never had an experience like this.

Cas put both hands on Dean's soft shoulders and pushed back, moving himself to sit upright. Dean got the message. He reached for top of Castiel's trousers and began to pull down, revealing his light red boxers, and began to kick off his own. Cas did the rest and tossed them on top of his trench coat, lying by the rug. Cas put his arms on either side of Dean, pinning him to the couch, and moved forward, once again taking over his mouth.

"I'm sorry," Castiel teased, mid-kiss. "I thought you weren't gay."

"Shut up," Dean half-joked, smiling wildly. Dean took Cas's hand and moved it down his chest to rest at his hips. Cas took care of the rest and slowly slid his hand in, a burst of cold on Dean's now-warmed skin. He moaned. "Cas. _Cas._" His eyes closed again. "Right there. Mm."

And then they switched, Dean now on top, diving in and out of Cas's mouth and sliding down toward his neck. And then he started to slow, finally taking the kissing to an end. And Dean rolled over, to sit right next to where Cas was, his hand on Cas's hip. "You're amazing," Cas muttered, and closed his eyes, his bare chest moving up and down rhythmically. "I love you, Cas," Dean said matter-of-factly, as if it was destined from the start. "No matter what I think, what I'm supposed to think, what others think... I just don't care. I love you." And that's how they stayed, in that same position, until they fell asleep._  
_


End file.
